


Cop Car

by lycos_anthropos



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: First Dates, M/M, based off of a country song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:36:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycos_anthropos/pseuds/lycos_anthropos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey go on a date that's totally not a date and end up getting arrested.</p><p>Based on the song Cop Car by Keith Urban.</p><p>There was gonna be a lot more to this but then I figured fuck shameless</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cop Car

**Author's Note:**

> I felt really guilty about the post s5 fic I wrote so here's not-boyfriends being boyfriends.

This was not a date.

He was Mickey fucking Milkovich, he didn't do dates. No way in _hell_ did he do dates with guys. Especially red-headed guys with pale skin and too many freckles. Not a fucking Gallagher. Dating was for people who were in relationships. People who cared about each other and talked to each other every day and felt a little flutter every time they saw each other.

Mickey wasn't even sure if it would qualify as a date if they _were_ together. They were just going to take Terry's pickup into a roped-off section of woods and bang in the bed of the truck. And then maybe lay there just a little longer than necessary and not notice their hands touching. Maybe it'll be cold and they'll have to cuddle- that is, huddle for warmth. Its not Mickey's fault Chicago springs are so damn unpredictable. Of course, they'll have to have a post-fuck meal to get their strength up. That should go without saying.

Maybe it was a date. But if anyone- including Ian- even fucking suggested calling it that, Mickey would have them six feet under before they could even get the word out.

* * *

 

Ian spent all day feeling like he was floating. Mickey had finally agreed to go on a date, even if he refused to call it that. He didn't care what Mickey said, driving out into the woods for a moonlit picnic was the most disgustingly romantic date he could imagine.

Ian left for the Milkovich house, blanket in hand, around dusk. It would have been easier for Mickey to pick him up, but Mickey thought that would look too suspicious. He smirked when Mickey opened the door before he even knocked. Mickey could claim he feared his dad would catch them as much as he wanted, Ian knew Mickey was as excited about their date as he was.

The truck's bench seat was made for three people, so there should have been plenty of room for them to spread out. Instead, Ian shoved his blanket and the food Mickey brought to the end so he could sit next to Mickey and lay his head on Mickey's shoulder. Mickey kept bitching that it was distracting and it was gonna be, "Your fucking fault when I drive us off a cliff or something," but he didn't stop smiling until after he parked in that abandoned clearing in the woods. They ignored the No Trespassing sign because really, did anyone actually pay attention to those things?

Ian grabbed the blanket and followed Mickey out the driver's side door; he didn't feel like shuffling around the picnic basket. An honest-to-god picnic basket. For someone hidden so far into the abyss known as The Closet, Mickey could be really fucking gay sometimes. Said homo was in the bed of the truck by the time Ian had closed the door, and offered Ian a hand when he was climbing in himself. Ian took it, smiling to himself because Mickey knew damn well he didn't need a hand getting up.

Mickey held Ian's hand far too long after Ian was steady to be able to pass it off as just helping him up. He maintained eye contact too, and for a second Ian thought Mickey was actually going to kiss him. It was ridiculous, of course, and  Mickey ended up just grabbing the blanket and spreading it over the bed. Ian rolled his eyes and helped smooth down it as if they weren't going to tear it up in a matter of minutes.

Ian crept behind Mickey as he was adjusting the last corner. He slipped his hands under Mickey's shirt and Mickey flinched. Whether it was from unexpected contact or cold fingers Ian didn't know. "You ready to go?" he asked, sliding his hands up Mickey's torso.

Mickey turned around and pulled off his tank top instead of answering, again letting his hands rest on Ian's for just a little longer than necessary. Ian hesitated for a moment, as always thrown off by Mickey's bruised body. He knew tons of kids who had to deal with shitty abusive parents- himself included- but it never seemed like such a huge deal. It sucked yeah, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. While Ian wasn't so sure about Mickey's claims that Terry would kill him without a second thought, there was no doubt in his mind that he couldn't even imagine what Terry would do if he found out that Mickey was gay.

* * *

 

Mickey was starting to feel self-conscious. Ian was doing that thing where he just stared at him with those sad green eyes, and Mickey fucking _hated_ it. He knows, he's pale and his stomach is soft and he's short, if Ian has such a problem with it he can just fucking move on.

Mickey gave it about ten seconds before he went for Ian's shirt. He didn't even have the fabric in his hands before he noticed the flashing lights.

"Oh shit," Ian said, and Mickey thought yeah, that about summed it up. He pulled on his shirt in hopes that maybe then it wouldn't be _too_ obvious what had been going on.

"Alright, Lovebirds," the cop greeted them. Mickey flinched, but he should have expected it, they were such a fucking cliche. Mickey was a fag on a date with his fag boyfriend and he was still seventeen and the cop was going to call his dad and he was fucking _dead._

"Oh," said the cop. He blinked when he shined the flashlight on Ian and Mickey- he hadn't been expecting a couple of queers, Mickey figured. It didn't take him long to recover, giving himself under a second before he cleared his throat. "Get out of the truck and stand with your hands behind your back."

 


End file.
